


Deck the Halls

by CubbieGirl1723, Marshmellow Bobcat (MellowBobcat)



Series: This Is Us [2]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Gift Fic, Season 2 AU, Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2019, gratuitous use of tinsel, holiday decorating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/Marshmellow%20Bobcat
Summary: Veronica and the Scooby Gang help Logan decorate his new house for Christmas.
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Series: This Is Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482185
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	Deck the Halls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurelia/gifts).



> A Christmas gift for Aurelia. We hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Previously on Reclaiming Normal…
> 
> If you’re not familiar with this storyverse, it’s a Season 2 AU. Veronica broke up with Duncan after the bus crash and ran to Logan instead. They worked together to solve that mystery, with help from their Scooby gang of friends. Aaron, not Cassidy, caused the crash and made multiple other attempts on their lives to keep Logan and Veronica from testifying against him in Lilly’s murder trial. Days after they confronted him, Aaron was mysteriously murdered at the same time that Logan moved out of the Neptune Grand and into the house he purchased. This story picks up with our Scooby gang as they deal with the fallout of their eventful semester.

“Surprise!” 

Veronica keeps the wide smile plastered on her face, even as Logan opens the door and doesn’t respond. He stares at her, scratches his bare chest, still wearing pajama pants at two in the afternoon. She shifts, shaking the mountain of shopping bags she’s carrying. They jingle but his face doesn’t change.

“Can I come in?”

Opening the panelled wooden door wider for her, Logan spins on his heel and pads out of sight. Gingerly, so as not to break any of the glass ornaments, she deposits her purchases in the entryway and dusts the lingering glitter off her hands.

“I know you just moved in so I bought all kinds of Christmas supplies,” she calls, her voice echoing in the cavernous foyer. No response from the homeowner.

Rustling through her bags, she finds what she’s looking for and bustles through the house. She heads to the stereo in the family room and pops in Maria Carey’s Christmas album. 

_Desperate times and all that. Maybe some mistletoe next._

Logan still doesn’t acknowledge her. He’s flopped onto his overstuffed, white sectional in his living room, arm flung over his eyes. Clearly, he doesn’t want her here. He’s made that pretty obvious the past few days, practically ignoring her and then not taking her calls altogether. At least she didn’t have to break in.

It’s just...this isn’t how she expected him to respond to his father’s death. When he figured out that Aaron was trying to kill them, had made multiple attempts on their lives already, crashed a bus full of kids to get to him, and tried to frame him for murder—all so Logan couldn’t testify against him—things had been fine. Mostly. They were all shook up after Aaron tried to take them out on the roof of the Neptune Grand, but Logan seemed to take it in stride.

Or so she thought. Days later, when his father was found dead in the Echolls mansion, gunshot wound to the head, Logan had retreated and shut her out. She’d given him his space but it had been six days. And it was Christmas. 

_This ends now._ He might not feel like it yet, but the company would do him good.

“So.” Veronica nudges his prone form with her foot. “You need to go shower because Dick and Wallace are bringing your tree over in an hour. And everyone is coming to help decorate.” 

As if a switch flips, he flings his arm off his face. “What?” 

His tone is harsh but Veronica doesn’t let it bother her. She plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“You heard me. Go. Shower. You stink.”

“Call them and tell them not to come. I’m really not in the mood.” With that, he returns his arm, muttering, “And go home, Veronica. I’ll call you later.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

In one fluid motion, he stalks off the couch and up the curved staircase. The upstairs hallway is open, she can see him until he disappears into the master bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

_As if that could keep me out._

She’ll give him five minutes to hear the water start or else she’s picking that lock, privacy be damned.

Heading back to her shopping bags, Veronica begins sorting her purchases into piles and rooms. She’s already decided that the tree needs to go in the living room because of the vaulted ceiling so the stand, skirt, lights, and all the ornaments go in there. The mistletoe gets strategically hung from doorways and she leaves the other decorations on the couch for now. Jackie and Mac can help her decide where they should go later.

Lighting the pine scented candle she picked out for the kitchen, she pulls out the Kitchenaid Logan bought for her and grabs sugar, flour, eggs, butter, and cinnamon. Cut-out cookies to decorate might be more seasonally-appropriate but she’s better at snickerdoodles. And she doubts the Scooby gang will complain.

Cocking her ear towards the upper level of the house, she hears the shower begin to run. _Finally._

Engrossing herself in the familiar baking routine and the Christmas music, she’s startled by pounding on the door.

“Yo, V, let us in.” 

Hurrying to the entryway, she throws the double doors open wide. Weevil, Wallace, and Dick are barely visible between the branches of a giant pine tree. 

“It’s huge,” she breathes, momentarily stunned. It’s been years since she’s decorated anything besides the puny artificial tree that currently graces the Sunset Cliff Apartments and she’s momentarily blown away by the sheer size of it.

“That’s what she said.” Dicks’ laugh rings out as they attempt to maneuver the giant tree in through the doorway.

“Let me go get the stand set up.”

She races ahead of them, praying they don’t knock anything over as they bring the battering ram of a tree inside.

“Which one of you picked this out?”

But no one answers, too busy giving each other instructions and getting the tree into place. Looking at the blanket of pine needles that litter the carpet, Veronica’s amazed there are any left on the tree but the boys manage to get it into the tree stand, with her help, of course. After flouncing the red and white peppermint swirl skirt around the base, she steps back to examine her handywork. It leans a little to the left but she’s pretty sure no one will notice once they add ornaments.

Rummaging through one of the shopping bags on the couch, she finds strings of lights and extension cords and doles them out to her elves. 

“Lights. You guys get this started while I—”

The oven timer dings on her last batch of snickerdoodles at the same time the doorbell rings. _Jackie and Mac_. “Wallace, can you get that?”

He heads towards the door as she pulls her cookies from the oven, the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar filling the house. If that doesn’t get Logan downstairs, she doesn’t know what will. 

Putting them on the rack to cool, she marvels once again at Logan’s kitchen. Granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, double ovens, and he outfitted it to her exact specifications. All the gadgets she’s ever wanted to try plus he stored all her baking supplies down low where she could reach them.

Glancing up at the ceiling, she wonders if her thoughtful boyfriend will make an appearance on his own or if she will have to drag him out of his room by force. Lord knows she understands needing space to process things, but he’s crossed the line into wallowing. It just won’t do.

Hearing laughter from the living room, she wipes her hands and hurries in to supervise. It’s a good thing, too, because Jackie is throwing tinsel at Dick.

“He doesn’t look like the tree to me,” Veronica deadpans, “although I’m sure he deserved it.”

“He did,” Cassidy pipes up from behind the tree. He must have come in with the girls. 

“Okay, here’s the plan. Wallace and Weevil, I want you guys to man the ladder and make sure we get enough ornaments on the top half. Dick and Cassidy, you get bottom.” Dick snickers and she glares at him. “Jackie and Mac, I need your help with the other decorations. Garlands and stuff.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wallace salutes her, eyes twinkling, and heads to the garage for the ladder. “Go, team.”

“So how much mistletoe did you buy?” Jackie gives her a sly look. 

“Enough.” 

Veronica throws herself into decorating, enjoying the sights and smells but still keeping an ear out for Logan. She was sure her plan was going to shake him out of his funk but what if it backfired? 

_He has to come downstairs at some point_ , she reasons. She can camp out here until he gets hungry or bored enough to leave his room. She’d rather not send Weevil and Dick in to retrieve him, but she will if she has to. 

_Christmas is meant to be celebrated with family. So here we are_. 

* * *

_Fine_. Logan steps into _clean_ gray sweatpants. _He showered._

But he doesn’t have to go downstairs if he doesn’t want to. She can’t make him.

 _Actually_...

He grabs his fitted black tee from the bathroom counter and shoves his arms and head it as he walks to the bedroom door. The Christmas music playing on the other side of the wood makes his skin itch. Right before he engages the lock, he snatches his hand away. 

He’s definitely off his game if he forgot the sound of a locking door is Veronica Mars’ siren call. 

And she’d just pick it anyway. 

He trudges back to the bed and flops on the covers, throwing his arm over his eyes. Why did he buy a house with so many windows? The light streaming through is completely disrespectful to his current mood. 

He doesn’t want to enjoy the California sun. And he doesn’t want to talk. To her, to anyone. For once in his life, he has absolutely no idea what to say. 

Finding out his dad was trying to kill them? That he took in stride. Logan stopped being hurt by Aaron’s complete disregard for his life when he was nine. He stopped being surprised by anything his father did last year. 

But learning his dad was murdered? That was devastating. 

How fucking sick is that? Devastated that the man who caused 80% of the scars on his body, and 100% of the scars on his soul is dead. 

And what’s he’s supposed to say to Veronica? _I’m sorry the man who tried to kill you is dead?_

Intellectually, he knows that she’d understand. Or pretend to. Veronica cuts people off with sheers, absolutely and with clean edges. He’s more apt to wield kindergarten scissors, which always leaves a thread to pull. And this particular thread has been wrapped around him, holding him up or strangling depending on the day. 

But he just spent months convincing her that their lives are normal, that normal is what they make it, and then this happens. Now, whenever he tries to put his own demands for communication into action, the words just freeze in his throat, form a lump he can’t speak around. 

Christmas music swells then fads as the door softly clicks open and shut. _There she is. Fuck._

But instead of the small hands he expects, large palms roughly haul him into a sitting position. 

“Get up, asshole.”

“What the fuck? Get off me.” Logan shoves Dick away and brushes stray tinsel off of himself as he scans the rest of his audience. Weevil and Wallace. “Oh, goody. An intervention.” 

All three loom in front of him, arms crossed. His ragtag band of enforcers. _Christ, did they see this in a movie?_

“Did Veroni—”

“Shut up.” 

At Wallace’s command Logan snaps his mouth closed. 

“Cassidy took the girls to get more tinsel.” Weevil puts in. 

Weevil looks annoyed and Wallace is definitely pissed but it’s Dick that looks like he’s on the verge of punching him. 

“What’s your problem, man?” Logan demands. 

“Dude, embrace the pain then let that shit go. You’re being a dick.” 

Logan gapes at Dick. “I’m being a dick,” he repeats slowly. 

“Yeah, Dude, a dick. We all got problems, yours just suck the most right now. Give it a week.”

 _Give it a week?_ His friend has never been the brightest crayon in the box, but this is a little much.

“As usual, you don’t fucking get it. Just leave me alone.” 

“Just because you feel like shit doesn’t mean you can treat Ronnie like shit.”

Logan gapes at him. “I would never—”

“She’s ordering us around like a drill sergeant, micromanaging every decorating decision, and freaking out because we ran out of tinsel,” Weevil informs him, jerking his chin and crossing his arms over his chest.

That all sounds right to him. “So what?” He shrugs. “Veronica’s bossy.” 

Most of the time he _likes_ when she’s bossy. It’s not his fault others can’t appreciate her quirks. 

“She’s not being bossy, you moron. She’s nervous.”

At Wallace’s declaration, Logan winces and runs a hand through his hair. 

Nervous. She tasers miscreants at will. She stood up to a murdering psychopath and didn’t even blink. And _he’s_ making her nervous. 

He stands up abruptly. “Get out.” 

“I don’t think so, Pretty Boy,” Weevil blusters. 

“No, get out. Make for the rectangle with the knob,” he points to the door, “then go down the stairs and out the other rectangle with the knob. And text Cassidy to stall Veronica for...” he considers the alarm on his nightstand, “twenty minutes.” 

Weevil and Dick assess him, clearly unsure of his intentions, but Wallace looks at him steadily, then nods. “He’s got this, guys. Let’s give the man some privacy.”

When they leave, Logan quickly switches the sweatpants for jeans and his t-shirt for a forest green henley. He does a hair check in the mirror. Satisfied, he makes his way down the stairs and walks into a veritable winter wonderland. 

There are shopping bags scattered, tinsel litters the floor, and the stockings are hung with absolutely no care (which tells him that was Dick’s assignment), but underneath the mess is Christmas. She gave him Christmas.

There’s that lump in his throat again. But instead of handicapping him, it strengthens his resolve. 

He starts by cleaning up the bags, unpacking what’s left and putting up garlands and mistletoe. He straightens the stockings and laughs when he finds one for every member of the Scooby Gang in a box by the fireplace. He hangs those, too. 

Inspired, he looks around for wood to build a fire. That’s the type of gesture Veronica would appreciate. It takes him almost ten minutes to realize it’s a gas fireplace, all he has to do is flip a switch. Not quite the grand gesture he was going for.

Shrugging, he flips it on anyway and then turns the stereo back on, adding the *NSYNC Christmas CD to the rotation. 

Unsure of how to get rid of the tinsel on the floor (Vacuum? Broom? Does he own those things?) he leaves it and considers it indoor snow. 

He doesn’t have a gift for her. She gave him Christmas, and he got her nothing. Murder attempts and death are no excuse. Dick’s right, he’s an asshole. 

Time to make it right. He searches the house and finds a few items to wrap with the penguin wrapping paper Veronica brought. A text from Jackie comes through as he’s kneeling in the living room wrapping. 

**Almost there. What’s up?**

He thinks for a second and replies: 

**Tell Veronica the door is open. Don’t come in unless you want a show ;)**

Somehow over the course of a few months, they’ve come to view each other as siblings, and the best way to ensure privacy with this group is to threaten public nudity.

His phone pings back. 

**Gross**

Logan laughs. _Perfect._

The front door opens and Logan shoves the paper, tape, and scissors under the couch. He jumps up to sit on it. 

Veronica appears in the entrance of the room and scans the clean space with its perfectly straight stockings and indoor snow, then her gaze lands on him and she takes in his new outfit and the present at his feet. 

“Hi?” Her smile is cautious, and his heart aches. 

“Hey there.” He pats the space next to him and she walks over and sits, leaving a space between them. She folds her hands in her lap and looks at him expectantly. He’s the one who’s been… grumpy, so it’s up to him to take the lead here. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “sorry about the indoor snow. I couldn't figure out how to get it out of the carpet. Which is why I’m hiring a maid as soon as I can.”

His opening line throws her. 

“Indoor snow? You mean the tinsel?” 

He raises his chin. “Branding is important, Veronica.” 

“Did you try picking it up?” 

_Picking it up?_ “Like, with my hands?”

“Yes, Logan. With your precious hands.” She rolls her eyes. 

He scoots closer to her. “Hey, you like my hands.” 

“I do,” she agrees and through her unwavering gaze he realizes that he’s been so wrapped up in his own misery he hasn’t thought about her needs of late. 

She would never push him, but knowing her, his lack of physical affection would leave her feeling unwanted, uncertain. 

He brushes a strand of hair off her face. “I, uh, also thought a fire would be nice. 

“Okay.” 

“And I thought it would be fun to open your Christmas gifts.” 

“Okay,” she says again. 

She’s not giving him much, but her face is dubious, as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He bends down, picks up the large square package, and hands it to her. 

She opens it and squints down at the offering. 

“Sheets?” She lifts her eyes to his. “Sheets that _I_ bought?”

“Well, yes, technically you paid for them.” He tugs on the sleeves of his shirt. “But they’re not going on my bed, they’re going on yours.” 

The look she sends him freezes his insides, and he rushes to explain. 

“No, no, not like that. I want you in my bed. Our bed. Anywhere, really. Fuck. This isn’t coming out right.” 

He reaches for her, clasping her fisted hands, forcing her attention on him.

“What I’m trying to say is: this house is yours, too. Sometimes I’m an asshole and I’ve been accused of being dramatic—”

She snorts.

“But, I always want you. I only want you. So If I’m being an asshole or you just don’t want to deal with me, you have your own room, a safe space. But you also know, I want you here. With me.” 

He drums up a winning smile.

She smiles back, the tumultuous one that says she loves him but the emotion is too much, and relief courses through him. 

Before she can quip he digs in his pocket and opens her palm, placing a key at the center. 

“It goes with this.” 

“A house key? What if I drop in unexpectedly? The other girls will have to….” she jerks a thumb over her shoulder. 

There it is. Quip, deflect. 

But she’s not running. She’s here and trying. It’s what he asked her for, and here she is, proving she can change. 

So he needs to show her that he won’t allow one set back, even a major one like this, to spiral him down to the angry man who buys guns and burns down community pools.

He taps her nose in admonishment.

“Unless you’re planning to kick Jackie out, we should be fine.” 

She laughs lightly. “I trust Jackie.” 

Veronica used the T word. And she meant it. He sneaks a peek out of the window to check, but pigs aren’t flying. It _must_ be Christmas.

He pulls her into his lap. 

“I’m sorry.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck she kisses him softly. 

“Me too. If I pushed you too much too soon. We’re okay?” 

“We’re okay.” 

Who needs parents to set an example? They’ll claw their way to emotional maturity by themselves. 

He presses his forehead against hers, leaning closer until their noses touch.

“Baby, I’m sad.” 

“I know, Logan. It’s normal. But we'll figure it out,” She releases his neck to lace her fingers through his. “Together.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As usual, Cubbie writes Veronica and MB writes Logan. We wish you a “Normal” Christmas, friends. 
> 
> A special thank you to JMazzy for providing an Emo!Logan playlist for inspiration.
> 
> See you in the new year, friends!


End file.
